


Red

by ghouliace



Category: The Chronicles Of Vladimir Tod - Zac Brewer
Genre: And violence, M/M, and basically what you would expect from d'ablo, slightly nsfw but nothing explicit, trigger warning for blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghouliace/pseuds/ghouliace
Summary: D'Ablo is lovely in red.





	Red

D’Ablo was lovely in red. When he draped himself in red fabrics he was breathtaking. It was loud and bold and demanded attention, all eyes on him, as he swept across the ballroom, the pretty young lady on his arm washed out by his very presence. When his shadowed eyes landed on Dorian those lips painted crimson twisted, just briefly, into a frown, and then golden lids closed over that striking blue, and when they opened again D’Ablo was no longer looking at him, and would not do so again, not for the rest of the night, not if he could help it. Dorian followed those flashes of red as D’Ablo vanished into the crowd, noting the dull pink that rose on the man’s sharp, ashen cheekbones. He wondered if it deepened to red.

D’Ablo was lovely in red.

Lit by the rear lights on his sleek black car, impatiently bouncing his keys and telling Dorian to hurry up, their flight would leave in a little more than an hour and the airport is a half-hour away. When Dorian pointed out they turned back because D’Ablo was the one who had forgotten that specific shampoo and they were pulled over because he was speeding, the line between D’Ablo’s eyebrows deepened and he rolled his eyes, pointing at the car and telling Dorian to get his ass in there. He stepped out of the red light once he finished ordering Dorian around, but Dorian still marveled at the image lingering behind his eyes, of that white-blond hair colored pink and the red light casting harsh, warm shadows on D’Ablo’s cheeks. He was smiling as he got into the car, and fortunately D’Ablo was too distracted to ask him what the hell he’s smiling about.

D’Ablo was lovely in red.

He relished in red warmth. The Slayer never stood a chance, lost an arm within the first ten seconds of the fight, washing D’Ablo in a spray of blood that contrasted violently with the pale skin and flashing blue eyes. He ends it with his white shirt dyed red and plastered to his skin, grumbling something about Dorian being useless and if they waited for him to react we would both be dead. Dorian watched D’Ablo wipe his mouth, smearing the blood like red lipstick on his face. D’Ablo swept past him, and Dorian caught his wrist, stopping him in his tracks and dragging him towards him until their chests touched. D’Ablo smiled. He knew this look, this touch, this was the Dorian that he didn’t mind being around, the one that kissed him even though human blood was bland and not Dorian’s favorite flavor to taste on D’Ablo’s lips. They left the body to the animals.

D’Ablo was lovely in red.

He was still red from the bloody shower he had bathed in and Dorian thought he never looked better, beneath him, covered in red, flushing red, red tooth marks scattered on his neck and chest. Dorian lowered his head again, catching D’Ablo’s red lips with this teeth, nibbling gently until he drew red, and as that dripped from those lips he traveled downwards, settling on D’Ablo’s neck, biting and sucking, and the blue veins pulsed beneath his lips, wouldn’t they look lovely red? D’Ablo gasped and his hands clawed at Dorian’s back, drawing their own red, but Dorian did not pull back until he had enough of his own, and when he did D’Ablo’s hands scrambled to hold his throat, blood bubbling out of the mess, staining him in that breathtaking red. Dorian smiled with his own red lips. “You look lovely in red.”


End file.
